Gandhi is threatening to invade my country if I don't share the secrets of gunpowder with him. Consulting with my advisers, I'm told his army is no threat, their technology far behind mine. I don't believe the numbskulls whispering in my ear: The Indian's army has marched right to the edge of my capital for maximum bargaining leverage, and outnumbers mine 6 to 1. I hand over our people's knowledge of gunpowder, and the formerly raging little wise man's face softens. He thanks me casually as if we weren't just on the brink of war, and then marches his army back to India as if nothing... More >>>
If only there was a little Slim Pickens riding it.